Ma Snook’s down for the weekend, so last night she and I headed over to gleebooks for the launch of David Stratton’s memoirs. The book’s called “I Peed on Fellini,” and we had a great time listening to the story that inspired the title. The main theme of the night – and, according to David, the reason he wrote the book – was film censorship in Australia. Margaret was there of course, interviewing him and adding her own colourful commentary. (My favorite part of the night was when she referred to the Attorney General of South Australia as “pussy whipped.”) They also referred to the good ol’ days at SBS a bit, at which point Ma Snook elbowed me and whispered: “See? You didn’t want to work there anyway!” All in all, a fun evening.

Amidst all the hubbub of switching jobs, I nearly missed the significance of the date. (And no, I don’t mean April Fools.) On this day eight years ago, I finally told a cute boy how much I liked him and I kissed him on a dodgy dancefloor in London. He’s now my best friend and my husband. Happy (real) anniversary, Snookums.

Man, after more than three years of thirty minute lunch breaks, these hour long corporate lunches feel INDULGENT. I don’t know what to do with myself!